Much Ado About You

But I knew as I looked at him that everything had changed irreparably. No matter what he said, he was no longer Roane. My kind, loving thirtysomething farmer fiancé. He was this stranger, the son of a baronet, who had made me a fool and hurt me deeper than anyone ever had because of it.

Roane paled at my expression because, apparently, he did know me.

“Evie . . .” His voice broke.

There was still a part of me that wanted to comfort him, and the fresh tears that spilled down my cheeks weren’t just for me. They were for him.

The sound of him whispering my name over and over again made me choke back a sob as I left him behind in the apartment.

Twenty-Six

My suitcases sat by the store door, waiting to be loaded into the cab that was coming for me. Unlike heartbreaking scenes in a movie, torrential rain didn’t accompany the moment. Instead it was a beautiful, too-hot day in Northumberland. Clear skies, bright sun, water glistening with sunlight that cascaded through its gentle waves.

No one knew I was leaving today except Penny.

Poor Penny.

She was thrown by how quickly things had fallen apart. Sally was pretty pissed too that I’d pulled out of the sale.

As I gazed around the bookstore, my chin wobbled and fresh tears stung my eyes. In the last forty-eight hours I’d cried more tears than I knew I had in me. Yet it seemed there was more to come. I had to hold them back until I got back on US soil. Staring around the store made it hard to be strong, because I was going to grieve not only my relationship with Roane, and the village and my friends, but this store.

This beautiful dream that I’d touched with the tips of my fingers.

When I’d returned that awful day to the apartment, Roane and Shadow were gone, and after I’d sobbed a bucketful of tears, I’d pulled out my laptop and googled Roane.

There were images of him at local events when he was younger along with his parents. I’d discovered Roane’s family had been granted a baronetcy by the Crown in the seventeenth century, and they had marriage ties to the dukedom way back then. The Alnster baronetcy was one of the oldest left in England, and although, as Roane had explained, they weren’t members of the peerage, it was still a respected title.

Roane’s grandfather Edward was the first baronet to avoid becoming a member of Parliament, instead concentrating on rebuilding a dwindling estate. Roane’s father had inherited it and expanded that wealth by starting the maintenance company, and Roane had continued to expand upon their little empire.

I found an article on the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland’s anniversary gala a few years ago, and Roane and his parents were on the list of guests who’d attended.

No wonder he’d known Alnwick Castle like the back of his hand.

He’d been there, mingling with a duke.

Memories flooded me, all the moments I’d forgotten, where he’d hesitated over taking me to the farm or hedged about details regarding his family. Times where I’d heard him say, “Evie, we need to talk,” or, “I need to tell you something.”

He had attempted to tell me the truth.

I saw that now.

But he hadn’t tried hard enough.

And I hadn’t thought to look. I’d stared at photos of him online, trying to figure out how I’d missed so much, including his age. I blamed that damn beard. But it wasn’t the beard, really. It was Roane. He had this innate maturity and authority that made him seem older.

What I wouldn’t do, however, was blame myself.

I pulled in a shuddering breath, pain constricting my throat as I fought back the emotion. It was the lies he’d told. The lies were almost inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Silly even. Truths that would never have stopped me from giving him a chance or loving him.

It was his ability to lie to me.

And the villagers’ deception.

All this time I’d thought I was one of them, but they’d kept this from me, like it was a game. Like I wasn’t permanent but just that summer’s entertainment.

I saw Milly approach the store door, and my stomach plummeted.

Yesterday I’d had to deal with Viola and Caro. I’d told them I was leaving, just not when, and during separate visits they’d both begged me to stay. It was hard with Viola. I was angry at her, at everyone, for lying to me, but I still cared about her. I’d still miss her.

It was heart wrenching with Caro. She’d pleaded with me not to leave before thinking things through, offering to keep me company by staying in my guest room or for me to stay with her, to give me time to fully process the situation with her support. When I refused, Caro cried in my arms, and despite being pissed at her for helping Roane lie, I’d hated hurting her.